Woman's Murder Club Fanfic Book 1
by justine96
Summary: Logan Boxer is part of the SFPD's homicide division, and alongside his colleagues and friends, he works to catch the brutal 'honeymoon killer' who is killings newlyweds, he is determined to find the killer and bring them to justice, will he succeed?
1. Prologue

_A/N:_

_So, I know this is a really short chapter, but that is because it is the prologue, I'm working on chapter 1 right now, so it shouldn't be too long and I apologize in advance for how long it may take me to upload in the future please comment and vote, any criticisms now and in the future are welcome, thanks!_

It wasn't until Martha, my border collie, barked that I realised how stupid I was being. I had been sat out on the terrace of my San Francisco apartment for the last…how long had it been...probably about an hour now, trying to convince myself that I had something to live for, all the while holding my service revolver in my hand, every so often pressing the barrel against my temple, my finger twitching as it leant against the trigger. I sighed and stood up, started pacing, trying to put things into perspective.

Martha whimpers and I turn to see that she is stood at the terrace door, watching me with the big brown eyes that right now look so sad. A slight smile appears on my face, she had been with me for six years, each night nuzzling me good night. She had been a loyal dog, someone who I could rely on during the rough times, even if she was just a dog. "It's alright girl, go lay down, I'm fine." I sigh and turn away from her, looking out at the San Francisco landscape, which was currently highlighted by the sunset, knowing that Martha would still be stood there.

I take one last look at the landscape and think about going back inside to call the girls, who make up my support system, now usually you see the guy as the strong, unemotional member of a team, that was me for the majority, with my being an inspector in SFPD's homicide department. But sometimes, everything just got on top of me and I ended up sat out here with gun in hand.

The girls, as I said, are my support system when things get on top of me, and even when things don't, they are still there, laughing and joking. Our group consists of Cindy, a journalist, Claire, our chief medical examiner and Jill, assistant district attorney. Now, I know what you're thinking, one guy amongst three women, he must be in heaven, but it wasn't like that, never had been and probably never would be, not with my job description, the threat of someone killing me always present, many people have the misconception that being a cop is a fun and easy job, a job where you get to carry a gun, but that is just that, a misconception, being a cop is, if not the most, if one of the most stressful jobs you can have, although it can be a laugh sometimes, when it comes to actually going out on patrol or on the hunt for a suspect, all laughter is put aside.

I know that if I was to call them, they would be here without a second thought, probably dropping everything to make sure I don't do anything stupid, telling me that I was loved and that I had things to live for, which is probably true. "Not tonight though." I think to myself, as I open the terrace door and walk past Martha as she follows at my feet, tail wagging. "Fancy going on a run girl?" Martha barks happily as I put my trainers on and pick up her lead, it was a ritual now for us to run every morning and evening, it also helped to clear my head and let me put things into perspective, I attached her lead to her collar, which is red and has a standard bone-shaped tag with my name and phone number on it, not that I thought it would ever be needed but best to be cautious, and we were out the door, hopefully to forget about Melanie and David Brandt, the first couple of the 'honeymoon murders' for tonight at least.


	2. Chapter 1

_**I do not own Women's Murder Club. Some scenes are graphic and may be disturbing.**_

"So, Mrs Melanie Brandt, may I escort you to your hotel room?" David Brandt asked his wife as he held out his hand, a grin which resembled that of a Cheshire cat plastered on his face.

"Of course you may, my dear." Melanie took David's proffered hand and they walked to the elevator, which pinged open just as they got there, with only a member of staff inside. David and Melanie exchanged pleasantries with the waiter whose name tag said Phillip, but didn't really pay him any attention as they waited for the elevator to reach their floor.

The elevator pinged as the doors opened on the Brandt's floor and, with a goodnight to the waiter; they stepped out and headed to their suite. After fumbling with the key card, David opened their suite door, holding it open for his wife, closing and locking the door firmly behind him.

David grinned as he heard a gasp of surprise come from his wife, "David, did you do this?" David just nodded; there were long-stemmed, red roses all over the room. "It's beautiful." Melanie beamed.

"I wouldn't change places with anyone else in the world right now." David mutters into his wife's neck as he hugs her from behind as they look out at the outline of the Golden Gate Bridge in the fading sunlight.

"Me neither." Melanie sighs as David goes across the room to where his suit jacket is across the back of one of the chairs.

"I've got something for you." He says as he rummages through his pocket.

"Oh David, there isn't anything else I need apart from being with you for the rest of my life." In the low sunlight, Melanie blushes as David brings out a small, black suede pouch from a box which she recognises from her favourite jewellers, Bulgari.

"Just open it dear." David hands her the pouch. "I think you'll like."

"Oh David, you didn't have to." Melanie gasps as she pulls out a pair of earrings, a pair of moons made from diamonds which are surrounded by metal rings.

"These represent how I feel about you; you are the moon who pulls my tides." Melanie held the earrings against the lobes of her ears, they looked perfect on her. David takes two champagne filled flutes from the nearby table, handing one to Melanie. "A toast…to us and to the future." He declared, clinking his glass against Melanie's and taking a long sip, as did she. They stood in silence for a time, enjoying the comfort of being with each other, watching the sunset across San Francisco.

As the light turned to dark, David put his and his wife's glasses back onto the table from which he had taken them and took his wife's hand, moving them to the edge of the bed. Without words, he slowly moved the straps of Melanie's dress over her shoulder, kissing each shoulder as he did so; he paused to nibble on her ear and was moving down her neck as a knock came from the other side of the door.

"Champagne!" Called the dislocated voice. David felt like telling them to leave it out there, they were busy but Melanie told him to answer, holding up the earrings to her ears.

"I'm going to try these on." She said with a wink as she turned and sauntered toward their en-suite. After she was out of sight, David went and opened the door.

Phillip Campbell had dreamed of this moment, envisioned the delightful scene that would unfold right in front of him, so many times, he just hoped that this wasn't a dream. "Congratulations." He murmured as he handed the bottle of Krug, Clos du Mesnil, 1989 to David, who barely acknowledged him and was intently inspecting the bottle.

"Was there a card?" Was all David asked, briefly looking behind him in search of his wife.

"Only this, sir." Phillip said as he stepped forward and thrust a knife into the groom's chest, right between the third and fourth ribs, the closest route to the heart. David stumbled backwards slightly at the impact, '_almost as if he had been shot_' Campbell mused with a chuckle. He then grabbed hold of the groom, pushing him up against the door as he drove the blade in deeper as Mr. Brandt stiffened with shock and pain.

David tried to breathe, guttural, rasping sounds escaping his throat. "David? David, where are you?" Melanie called from the en suite and Campbell was quick enough to pull the knife from Mr. Brandt just as Mrs. Brandt walked into the room.

"Dav….who are you? Where's David?" Melanie scanned the room frantically until her eyes locked on her husband, whom had slid to the floor; there was now a pool of blood by his chest where he had been stabbed and he was also coughing up blood as his lungs filled.

"Oh my god! David! What have you done?!" Melanie tried to move, to get to where her husband's body was but she was frozen in fear, her eyes swept the room for a way out, but there wasn't one, she felt a rush of adrenaline and made a dash for the door, but Campbell grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling her close as he pressed the bloodied knife against her throat.

Melanie's eyes widened as she felt the pressure of the knife against her throat. "Please don't kill me." She begged, the sound music to Campbell's ears.

"Oh, but Melanie, I'm here to save you." Campbell lowered the knife and sliced into her. Melanie tensed as a death rattle escaped her lips, the life draining from her eyes as she sagged into Campbell's arms.

It took Campbell nearly a full minute to regain his senses. After removing the blade from Melanie, he carried her over to the bed and placed her on it, a grin that would remind anyone of a Cheshire cat upon his face and a somewhat crazed look in his eye.

'_What's the worst thing anyone has done?' _Campbell asked himself. _'Is it this? Was he responsible for it?' _ 'Not quite yet' answered the voice inside, and with that answer, he proceeded to lift the bride's wedding dress.


End file.
